


Freely Given

by magog_83



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-14
Updated: 2010-05-14
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9844448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magog_83/pseuds/magog_83
Summary: Gwen and Merlin share a kiss on May Day, and Merlin decides that destiny is a strange thing.





	

"Oh! There you are, Merlin." Gwen looked a little flustered; her May Day garland was hanging loosely and rather precariously from her dark curls and she was breathing hard.

Merlin grinned at her, lifting his tankard in a cheerful salute. "I'm attending his Pratness."  
  
Gwen looked around, as if expecting the Prince to crawl out from under the long tables (which Merlin would give up all his ale to witness), then frowned. "I thought he went back inside?"  
  
Bugger. Merlin figured he should get some credit for effort at least. "I guess I'm just guarding the broiled ham then. Not all that different..." he trailed off reflectively.  
  
Gwen giggled, then covered her mouth, the way she always did when she found something funny but thought she probably shouldn't. Merlin beamed at her, the sweet ale settling pleasantly in his stomach along with something else — something that he thought might have more to do with the smell of sunbaked grass, wood smoke and the way Gwen was looking at him, happy and hopeful all at once.  
  
Merlin took a mouthful of ale, for courage, and said, "You look very pretty."  
  
Now Gwen really did look flustered and Merlin felt a flush creep up his neck — perhaps he should not have said that. But she did look pretty. Not untouchably beautiful like the Lady Morgana perhaps, but he doubted the Lady Morgana had ever had freckles across her nose or hair that blew every which way and seemed to tempt Merlin's fingers. He frowned down at his tankard — where had that thought come from?  
  
"Would you... would you like to dance?" Her words came out so fast that Merlin almost didn't catch them (busy staring into his tankard as he was). He stared at Gwen, who looked horribly embarrassed. "I mean, you don't have to, I just thought that... As it's May Day and you haven't—"  
  
"I can't," Merlin blurted.  
  
"Oh! Yes, of course, I didn't mean that you—"  
  
"No, I mean I can't," Merlin broke in, before she could look any more disappointed. "Arthur tried to teach me and I gave him a black eye... Don't ask," he said, at Gwen's confused expression. "Gaius made me promise I wouldn't try again. For the sake of the realm." He smiled, apologetic and awkward, feeling his face flush.  
  
Gwen stared at him a moment longer, and then started laughing, eyes bright with mirth and something that looked perilously like affection. "Whatever are we going to do with you, Merlin," she said, in what Merlin thought was a rather uncanny echo of everyone he had ever met in his life. Merlin tried looking terribly put upon, but Gwen only shook her head. "It's a tradition that maidens receive gifts upon May Day." Her voice was warmly teasing, the awkwardness of a moment before seemingly forgotten, and she was just Gwen once more, though a sun-freckled Gwen with white flowers in her hair and as beautiful as Merlin had ever seen her. "But if you are sworn not to dance, you may just have to help me with the laundry baskets later."  
  
Merlin didn't really mind helping Gwen with her baskets, though Arthur teased him for it, so he didn't really know why instead of agreeing he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Gwen's suddenly, nearly dropping his tankard in the process. It was clumsy and too fast and Gwen made a surprised sound against his lips, her hand coming up to rest against his chest — to hold him there or push him away, Merlin wasn't sure. He pulled back after barely a second, his heart pounding painfully and the familiar heat of embarrassment warming his face.

"Sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean— you just looked so..."

"I didn't mind," Gwen said, too quickly, and they both stared at each other.  
  
"You know me and baskets," Merlin said weakly. "It's an accident waiting to happen."  
  
Gwen smiled, a nervous smile, and then looked at Merlin's mouth a moment longer than Merlin's stomach was comfortable with. "No baskets then," she said, then swallowed.  
  
Considering he had now at least had one previous attempt, Merlin thought this time round would be more successful and it was, if you didn't count him half standing on Gwen's foot (Gwen just muttered "never mind" when he tried to pull back and apologise, so Merlin decided it didn't matter too much and got back to the kissing). Gwen's mouth was ridiculously soft, and her hair, Merlin discovered, was just how he had imagined it would be (only he hadn't imagined the way it would tickle as it brushed against his skin). Her hand was warm and only a little hesitant as it curled loosely around his neck, calloused, the way his hands were calloused — from too many baskets carried and too many things scrubbed and scoured and polished. Merlin didn't quite know what to do with his hands, so he rested them lightly at her waist, the familiar rough weave of her dress thrillingly exotic in that moment.  
  
"Gwen!" It was Gwen who pulled away first this time, she taking far less time than Merlin to recognise the approaching sound of the Lady Morgana, apparently searching for her handmaiden.  
  
"My lady?" Gwen sounded a bit breathless, and Merlin felt a little that way himself.  
  
"There you are, Gwen. And Merlin!" Lady Morgana appeared from the crowd, radiant in a plain green gown, and Merlin reflected briefly upon the fact that her untouchable beauty did not seem so untouchable now in the waning evening sun, grass on her skirts and the famous porcelain skin touched with the lightest red. Or perhaps it was the presence of Gwen, for whom she always smiled, warm and human. "I have been looking for you." She cast an amused glance at Gwen and then at Merlin, letting her gaze linger on his flushed face. "I hope you have not been importuning my handmaiden, Merlin?" she said, her tone was arch but her eyes were amused.  
  
"Of course not, my lady," Gwen interrupted before Merlin could do more than look guilty. "We were just... discussing baskets."  
  
"Baskets?" said Morgana, a slight smile curving her lips.  
  
"Um... yes?" said Merlin, as Gwen looked at him for confirmation.  
  
"I see," said Morgana. "Well I wouldn't make a habit of it; I don't think Arthur would approve."  
  
Merlin made a face, "He never approves of me with baskets."  
  
Morgana ducked her head, as though to hide a smile, but only said, "Indeed." She turned to Gwen, who had taken the opportunity during their brief preoccupation to right her garland and tidy her hair, "I had hoped to steal you away to the dancing, unless you are otherwise engaged?"  
  
Gwen looked a bit embarrassed at that but said at once, "Of course! I was trying to persuade Merlin, but he didn't think it would be wise." She and Merlin shared a brief conspiratorial look and Merlin felt, in that moment, quite content with his world.  
  
"I hope he gave you a suitable gift instead," said Morgana.  
  
"Oh yes," said Gwen, a bit too enthusiastically, and Morgana laughed and pulled Gwen towards her.  
  
"I'm sure," she said, still laughing, "But I'm afraid I will have to steal her away from you, Merlin, for I cannot be expected to dance alone."  
  
Merlin looked a bit wistfully at the two of them, at the way Gwen did not look awkward or nervous now, but leaned into her lady, already half turned towards the swirling mass of townspeople and courtiers alike. "I'll just guard the ham then," he said.  
  
Morgana looked a bit confused at that but Gwen turned back and then, in a fleeting moment, stepped towards him, her lips pressing all too briefly against Merlin's cheek. "Thank you," she said, just loud enough for Merlin to hear, then in a more normal tone, "And good luck."  
  
"Thanks!" Merlin said after a surprised moment, before stopping to wonder what on earth she was wishing him luck for. But Gwen just smiled, and let Morgana pull her away into the crowd.  
  
"There you are!" came a depressingly familiar voice a second later, answering his question. "You are supposed to be following me around like the loyal servant you're being paid to be, not salivating over a side of ham and making free with the ale. And did you even notice I had left?"  
  
Merlin turned with a loud and very long suffering sigh to see Arthur, his revered employer, stalking towards him with a scowl on his face (and, Merlin was very happy to see, a rather sunburned nose).  
  
"Well?" Arthur demanded.  
  
"I couldn't find you, so I thought if I waited by the ham, you would be bound to turn up sooner or later."  
  
"Excuse me?" snapped the Prince.  
  
Merlin smiled angelically. "I can see the castle entrance from here."  
  
Arthur opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again, unsure (since they could indeed see clearly to the castle entrance). "Well," he said at last, "next time, pay attention."  
  
"Yes, Sire," said Merlin, dutifully.  
  
Arthur looked a bit suspicious at that but then muttered something (probably insulting) and settled back against the table next to him. "What have you been doing anyway?"  
  
"Nothing," said Merlin innocently.  
  
Arthur narrowed his eyes, but evidently seemed satisfied with Merlin's answer, "Good. I am not paying you to flirt with the court ladies."  
  
Merlin swallowed the grin that was threatening to take over his face and looked out instead to the dancers, a sea of ever-moving colour drenched in the golden evening light. He could see Gwen and Morgana now, hands clasped tight and hair flying as they spun and leapt, faster and faster until he could hardly tell them apart, dark and light and breathless laughter. Gwen twirled and caught his eye, still grinning, and Merlin raised his tankard to her and Morgana both, earning himself an odd glance from his companion, but no scathing words this time. Destiny was a funny thing, he thought. The end was set and paths already chosen, but it didn't mean there were no surprises along the way.

The End


End file.
